


The (Un)Timely Demise of Tom Marvolo Riddle

by Breathesgirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Horcruxes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 10:36:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16217285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Breathesgirl/pseuds/Breathesgirl
Summary: Hermione Granger and Orion Black Team up to save Regulus Black's life.





	The (Un)Timely Demise of Tom Marvolo Riddle

Hermione was confused: the last thing she remembered was fleeing from Nagini in Godric’s Hollow, yet here she was, alone, with no clues as to  where she was, or even when she was.

She groaned as she opened her eyes; the light was dim, but still nearly unbearable.  She closed her eyes as she heard footsteps, maybe she would be able to learn a few things if she feigned sleep and just listened.

She heard a door open, and saw a shadow pass in front of the dim light, “I heard you groan Miss,” an unfamiliar voice said.

She groaned again as she slit open her eyes and saw a man standing beside her bed; he looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite place him in her befuddled state. “Wh...wh...Where am I?” She groaned as she opened her eyes a little further.

The man definitely looked familiar, but she would have to think on that later.

“You are in my home Miss...” he half stated, half asked.

“Granger. Hermione Granger,” she said as she tried to sit up so she could carry on a proper conversation, but her head started pounding, feeling like The Little Drummer Boy had taken up residence behind her eyes: she groaned again as she dropped back down to the bed.

“I’ve never heard of a magical family with that surname Miss Granger,” he said sternly.

“Could you please turn down the lamp or stand in front of it or something please? My head’s pounding and the lamp is only making it worse,” she said as she screwed her eyes shut in an effort.

“Kreacher!” The man called.  Her eyes flew open! Kreacher? Exactly when was she?

“Master called Kreacher?” The surly house elf said.

“Yes, bring our guest a headache potion,” the man told him.

“Right away,” the house elf said as he snapped his fingers and disappeared, only to reappear almost immediately with a vial of potion which he held out to his master.  Once he had been relieved of his slight burden Kreacher disappeared again to tend to other matters, or so she assumed.

The vaguely familiar man held the vial out to her, “this should help Miss Granger, and then you will explain to me how you ended up in my house, in my guest room, through muggle repelling wards, a fidelius charm and an unplottable field.”

Hermione nodded as she took the vial and downed the potion within, grimacing at the taste as she always did when she had to take a potion for something. Almost immediately the pounding behind her eyes lessened, and within a few minutes the pain had disappeared altogether. “Much better, thank you Mr...?” She said, using the same tactic he himself had used to get her name.

“Black, Orion Black, Miss Granger.” Her mouth dropped open; this was Sirius’s father? If she went by what Sirius had said about his father, he didn’t put up with any malingering or funny stuff, and could get quite angry when crossed.

She took a deep breath, how in the world had she ended up travelling back in time? “Miss Granger?” Orion Black questioned, becoming perturbed with her apparent lack of a story.

“I...i...I’m sorry Sir,” she stammered, “you just remind me of someone I used to know,” she hedged as she tried to figure out the answers to his questions.

Mr. Black stood there, arms crossed, simply looking at her, waiting for her to begin to answer his many questions.

Hermione sighed, “I’m sorry Mr. Black, but I really don’t know how I ended up here. The last thing I remember is running from a very large snake, and then waking up here.”

Her host glared at her, causing her to quell a bit before she stiffened her spine and stared right back. “Kindly tell me,” he said accusingly, “why you were running from a snake in the dead of night.”

Hermione’s face flamed scarlet at his accusation, but she refused to back down, “I was there visiting my friend’s parents’ graves with him and visiting with what we thought was a friend of his parents.”

“Just where is this snake now?” He asked, trying to poke holes in her hard to believe story.

“Harry!” She gasped as she remembered falling from the bedroom window with her best friend.

“The snake’s name was Harry?” He asked incredulously.  He may have been sorted Slytherin, but even they didn’t often name snakes, especially such a mundane name.

Hermione shook her head, “No, Harry is the name of my friend. It was his parents’ graves we were visiting.”

“Likely story,” he said as he turned to leave the room.

“Wait!” His house guest called. “Please,” she said when he continued toward the door. “What year is it please?” She asked as a last ditch measure before he left her alone.

“1978.” He replied as he closed and locked the door behind himself.

Her eyes went wide: she had gone back 20 years! “Please,” she called out, hoping he hadn’t already left the hallway, “there isn’t much time before Regulus dies!” She slumped in relief as she heard the door unlock.

“How do you know my son,” her now irate host demanded.

“I don’t.” She said, hurriedly continuing as Orion moved to close the door again. “I’m from 1998. According to your family tree then, Regulus died in 1979.”

“How,” Orion demanded. There was no way he was going to let their favorite son, only son really, die if he could in anyway prevent it.

“Retrieving one of Voldemort’s,” Orion shuddered at the name, “horcruxes from where it was hidden as far as we’ve been able to figure out.”

“Horcruxes? He made such an abominable creation, and then proceeded to make more?!” He thundered.  He may have believed in Voldemort’s ideals as far as he understood them, but to try to defy death in such an abominable way?  Orion shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Come,” he said as he turned to leave the room again.

Hermione scurried after him, down several flights of stairs and down a long hallway to what she knew was the library once they entered it.

They spent the next several hours researching horcruxes and how to destroy them, although there were very few books she was allowed to touch, since many of them had nasty curses attached to them, the lightest of which would sever the hand of any who were not a Black by blood if they touched it.

Once they had figured out how he was going to destroy any of the abominations they found, he demanded to know what each was and where it was hidden.  Being told they might not be in the same places 20 years before she had helped Harry hunt for them did not help his temperament any, but he did concede the point.

Finally, a week later, and several screeching sermons from Walburga Black about a mudblood being in her house, they left 12 Grimmauld place, and the harpie, behind to try and find the horcruxes and destroy them.

The hunt with Orion Black was not as difficult as it had been with Harry.  Not having to camp out, and being able to eat when they were hungry, instead of having to make due helped in both her outlook and her own temperament.

It also helped that Orion had been friends with some of the students in Tom Riddle’s, Lord Voldemort to most, year and had heard many things. The most important for their purposes was that Tom had had nightmares and had talked in his sleep, so he knew about Tom’s life among the muggles, and, with the use of a pensieve, was able to pick what was most likely most important to the young Tom Riddle and the older Lord Voldemort. Using the information Hermione had gleaned during the original horcrux hunt, and with the use of Orion’s pensieve they were able, over several months, to find and destroy the five horcruxes.

Hermione smiled once they used fiendfyre to destroy the last of the horcruxes. Her vengeance was not yet complete, but it would be soon.  She intended to destroy Tom Riddle before he could discover that all of his abominations had been destroyed and make more.

On 31 October, 1979 she used Kreacher’s ready assistance, since he had been told that his Mistress’ idol would be the means of his wonderful Master Regulus’s demise so young in life, to disillusion her and apparate her past the wards at Lestrange Manor where he had attended his Mistress many times since her niece’s nuptials to Rodolphus Lestrange in 1970. The Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort, was holding one of his revel’s there before sending his Death Eaters out to cause as much mayhem as they could while the Veil was thin.

Hermione got a good look at him before she sent his own favorite, the Killing Curse, at him, he looked nothing like he did after he was reborn during 1995:  He looked much more like his younger self, and his voice was charismatic, if a little crazed sounding, as he gave his monologue to rile his followers up so the blood would be pumping through their veins.

Hermione, who had never cast dark magic in her life, summoned up all the hate she had for the man in front of her. She thought about how he had made Harry’s life a living hell, how he had affected her own life, and Ron’s, and everyone else’s:  She raised her wand and whispered, “Avada Kadavra,” as she pointed her vine wood wand at her enemy. He fell, lifeless, before he even knew she was in the room with them.


End file.
